Читать книгу My Way Back to You - Pamela Hearon - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

“WE COULD’VE WALKED faster than this.” Maggie blew out a breath and cut her eyes toward Jeff in the passenger seat. “It’s only seven miles.”

He pressed his lips together as if he intended to give that some serious consideration, but then he shook his head. “I’m not about to walk seven miles in this heat unless I have a golf bag over my shoulder.”

Maggie snorted. “Some things never change.”

As on the previous afternoon, heavy traffic lumbered its way up Lake Shore Drive. Though she’d added the grumble for effect, Maggie didn’t really mind the slow ride. The morning sunshine and the excitement of being in the city—not to mention the company of the man in the car with her—had her blood pumping. She’d allowed herself plenty of time to relax this morning, eaten a hearty breakfast to chase away any growls her stomach might consider making and had chosen a pair of shorts she could wear with sneakers.

Yeah, she’d prepared herself for moving day and the ten thousand trips they would make back and forth to the car with Russ’s things.

What she hadn’t prepared for was the slam to her stomach brought on by Jeff’s smile when she’d stepped off the elevator. Or the delicious tingle his presence gave her in the close quarters of her car. She should find some comfort, she supposed, knowing a part of what they’d had still remained—a kind of validity that what they’d felt for each other years ago had been real. And maybe he felt it, too. The smile that had greeted her this morning had seemed genuine.

“Spike Grainger was in the bar last night,” Jeff said.

The comment came out of nowhere as the light turned green and traffic started moving at a faster but steady pace.

“Who?”

“Spike Grainger. His son Matt is one of Russ’s teammates. Anyway, he was pumping me about you.”

Oh, Lord! “You were discussing me with someone in the bar? Why?” She flipped the air conditioner to high and directed the vent toward her heated face.

“I didn’t bring you up. He did. I think he’s interested. But you need to be warned that he’s only been divorced for three weeks and his ex is on her honeymoon.”

Her ex-husband was trying to fix her up with somebody? Maggie bristled, not exactly sure why she found this extremely irritating—except that she’d shared some things with him last night that had left her feeling vulnerable. She certainly hoped she hadn’t come across as desperate. “Thank you, Mr. Matchmaker, but I don’t need your help finding a man.”

“I wasn’t helping you find a man,” Jeff bit back. “I’m helping you not find a man. The guy’s needy and on the prowl. I suspect he’s going to put the moves on you today, and I wanted you to be aware.”

“I told you about Zeke, so now you think I’m some pushover where men are concerned?”

“I didn’t say that, Mags.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I think Zeke was a bastard.”

“Let’s drop the Zeke subject, okay? I’m good. Things are good.” Her hands were aching again from gripping the steering wheel too tightly, just like yesterday. She let go with one and stretched her fingers as the silence continued for a couple of minutes.

“You dating anyone?” he asked.

When she’d first found out Jeff was coming to this orientation, Maggie vowed she wouldn’t get into all the subterfuge some exes seem to find necessary. She pretended to focus on the traffic as her mind contemplated whether or not this was something worth lying about to him. She decided it wasn’t. “No. I haven’t been out with anyone since...you know.” She stopped herself short of the conversation topic she’d just banned. “Oh, guys have asked,” she added. “I’ve just been too busy.”

“How is business, by the way?”

“Fabulous.” Not having to exaggerate about the hair salon she owned in Paducah brought a smug smile to her face. “I have ten stylists and four nail technicians now.”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wow, impressive.”

She’d always assumed Russ kept his dad as informed about life in Kentucky as he kept her about life in California, but maybe she’d assumed too much. “My best friend Emmy’s my assistant manager, so everything runs smoothly even when I’m not there. Time with Russ has been my top priority the past few years.”

“He’s a great kid, isn’t he?”

She glanced away from the traffic long enough to share a proud, tender smile. “The best.”

The car went quiet again, and then Jeff gave a cough that sounded forced. “Did you...um...” He gazed at Lake Michigan on their right. “Did you date much after we split up?”

“Not for years,” she admitted. It was the first open reference either of them had made to their divorce, and her heart squeezed in response. “And only a couple of guys before I met...Zeke.” Grrr! How many times was he going to come into the conversation? “What’s with all the dating talk this morning?” The question flashed in her brain, but she didn’t mean to verbalize it. Still, there it was. And there was the university, as well. She moved into the left-hand turn lane and miraculously caught the green turn signal.

“I never questioned Russ too much about you...or your personal life. Didn’t want him to think I was prying.”

Maggie nodded as she pulled into the parking lot and headed for a spot.

“But, now we’re together,” Jeff continued, “I realize how much I don’t know about your life, so I’m trying to catch up on those lost years. I figured the best place to start was the beginning.”

The beginning.

Dread dropped into her stomach.

“Those first few years after we split up may have been a beginning for you.” She cut the engine as her fingers found the door handle. “To me, they felt more like the end.”

* * *

THE WEIGHT OF Maggie’s last words stayed with Jeff all day. And while he tried to imagine that weight being carried on his shoulders, it sure as hell felt more like it was hanging somewhere inside his chest.

Years, she’d said. Not weeks or months. It was as if that one word had been engraved on a stone tablet and hung on an iron stake driven into his heart.

As soon as she’d uttered her comment, she’d leaped from the car and joined the other parents arriving for the tour. She’d also volunteered to join a different tour group than the one he was in—on purpose, he suspected. It was as if she didn’t want to be anywhere in his vicinity. And it wasn’t lost on him that Spike Grainger volunteered for the same group Mags had, taking up the last spot.

Everyone came back together for lunch, and Matt and Spike joined them at their table. As Jeff predicted, Spike grabbed the chair next to Mags. All through lunch, he laughed too loud and too long at her jokes, flirted outrageously and made a complete ass of himself.

Mags was friendly with the big brute, but she didn’t return his flirtation. In fact, Jeff thought he could almost read a hint of sympathy in her manner, but he wasn’t sure.

Time was when he would’ve been sure. He’d been intimately familiar with her every mood and every nuance of every mood. If she bit her bottom lip while they were making love, she wanted to play, but if she chewed her bottom lip while they were making love, she wanted him to take the lead and explore. And explore he always did.

The memory brought on an erection that came and went throughout the afternoon, springing to life at Maggie’s throaty laugh, lessening when he-man and his son came to help after getting Matt “all moved in in no time flat.”

They’d finally left two minutes ago, and their leaving had brought relative quiet to the room—although the hallway was still crawling with boisterous teenage boys.

Thank God he’s gone. Jeff tightened the last nut on the bunk/futon combo unit Russ and his roommate Blake had decided on. The kid from Des Moines seemed nice enough, but Russ’s loud-mouth ways would likely take some getting used to for the quiet kid. Of course, that went both ways. His son, an only child his entire life, would have to get used to sharing a room with someone. Jeff smiled at the thought.

“You look happy we’re almost done.” Mags shot him a grin as she unrolled a circular rug in the center of the room.

“I am that,” Jeff agreed. “I was also thinking about the learning curve our son will have to go through beginning tonight.”

“Yeah.” Her chuckle had a wicked edge that brought him to life again despite his fatigue. “He thinks it’s going to be like summer camp. He doesn’t realize how hard it can be to live with someone day in, day out...” She glanced away as her voice trailed off. “The room looks good, though.” She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as she made a slow, tight circle, inspecting the afternoon’s progress. “Never thought we could make it look like this considering how it was when we started.”

Her tired eyes met his, and for a moment he thought she was going to say something else, but her gaze darted to the top bunk. “But that ghastly sleeping bag is a travesty when there were all those cute sheet sets to choose from.”

“This is easy to make up. No fuss. And just as easy to wash.” Jeff captured her gaze again and returned her tired smile. “And he couldn’t care less if his bedding is cute.”

Just then, Russ bounded into the room. “Look what I just scored out of the garbage!” He held up a leg lamp of The Christmas Story variety, except in miniature, tabletop size. “Gort says it works and everything.”

“Ick.” Maggie’s mouth creased sharply downward.

“Ah, c’mon, Mom.” Russ rubbed his hand delicately down the leg. “It’s a conversation piece.”

“Like conversation is something you need more of?”

“She has a point.” Jeff eyed the strange object that had his son captivated. “If it works, why would he throw it away?”

Russ shrugged. “Girlfriend gave it to him. Then she broke up with him yesterday, so he says he doesn’t want the reminder.” He set it on the desk and plugged it in. A flip of the switch and the fishnet-covered leg glowed dimly. “Fra-gee-lee! That is rich!” A couple of posters he hadn’t decided on yet lay rolled up on the desk. He grabbed them and tossed them onto the top shelf of the closet. “Oh, yeah. Hey, Matt was down at the garbage, too, so I asked if he and Spike would like to have pizza with us tonight. Hope that’s okay. I figured we owed them for all their help. They’re meeting us at the hotel.”

Jeff grimaced, but neither Maggie nor Russ noticed his displeasure. They both seemed fine with the idea of more time with Thor and Company.

“Besides, Mom.” Russ swung around and caught Maggie playfully around the neck—standing a full head taller than she—and gave her a soft nuggie. “Matt says his dad thinks you’re hot.”

“Damn it.” Jeff swore under his breath.

“I am hot...and sweaty.” Maggie’s swift poke at the ticklish spot in Russ’s ribs efficiently broke his hold. She stepped away and wrinkled her nose. “He’s pretty basic.”

Jeff wasn’t sure what that meant, but it didn’t sound like a compliment so it gave him a reason to chuckle.

“Go easy on him, Mom.” A movement in the hallway caught Russ’s attention. “Hey, Steeger,” he yelled, and bolted that direction.

Mags watched him and then turned to Jeff, eyes wide with wonder. “I’ve never seen him so hyper. It’s like he’s five again.”

“Basic?” he asked.

“Tries too hard...easy to see through.”

“Ah.” Jeff tossed his wrench back into the tool bag Spike had provided. “So you prefer the guy who plays it cool.”

She gathered up the stack of towels she’d folded and started toward the bathroom. “I prefer no guy at all.”

The heaviness in his chest became apparent again. “Mags—” He wasn’t sure what he was going to say—only knew he needed to say something, but Russ bounded back into the room.

“Can we go eat now? I’m going to gnaw on that leg lamp if I don’t get some food pretty soon.”

Maggie handed over her armload to him. “I can’t go eat like this.” She pointed at her top, which sported a dirty tread mark from where she’d moved an armload of sneakers. “And neither can you, Russ. Go shower. Now. You can make it a quick one.” She picked up one of the boxes that needed to go back to the car.

“I’ll get that, Mags. It’s too heavy for you.”

Jeff reached for it, but she held on and rocked back on her heels. “I’ve got it. Russ can get the big one after he showers, and you can bring the other small one. I’ll have the car by the front door in ten minutes. And don’t forget Spike’s tools.” She disappeared into the crowded hallway.

“Spike has her thinking all the rest of us are wusses,” Russ grumbled as he headed for the bathroom.

“Humph. I was thinking the same thing,” Jeff answered, though too low for his son to hear. The bathroom door closed and he finished what was on his tongue. “I wonder which ranks lower in her estimation—a wuss or a basic?”

* * *

DID CHICAGO HAVE a downtown salon that stayed open late? Maggie glanced down Rush Street. With all the testosterone she’d been exposed to over the past three hours, her upper lip probably could stand a good waxing.

“So I see the puck headed right toward us.” Spike was in the middle of one of his many tales of heroic deeds. “And I throw myself in front of her and catch the damn thing in the back, right below my shoulder blade. Luckily, with all the layers I had on, it didn’t break anything. But I ended up with a bruise this big.” He held his hands out and cupped them to form a circle the size of a salad plate. “The doc said if I was an average-size guy, like you—” he gave a curt nod in Jeff’s direction as they walked “—it might’ve paralyzed me...or worse, if it had hit my temple.”

A hit to the mouth might not have done too much damage. Maggie kept her thought to herself.

“Oh, hell, Grainger.” Jeff pointed his arm in silent direction to make the turn onto Walton. “If the damn puck had hit you in the head, it would’ve ricocheted off.” The tightness in his jaw told Maggie he’d said it only half in jest, but Spike guffawed.

“Good one, man.”

She felt certain her presence—walking between the two men—was the only thing that saved Jeff from a hearty pounding on the back.

“I’m glad we decided to walk.” She changed the subject, trying to move the two fellows beyond the juvenile pissing match they’d fallen into somewhere around the time the salad had arrived. “Giordano’s has to be the best pizza I’ve ever had, but—”

“You think Giordano’s is good?” Spike’s mouth was moving again. “You ought to taste the pizza at this little tavern down the street from where I live. They have this one that’s loaded with all kinds of meats and cheeses...”

Maggie allowed her mind to race a half block ahead to the stoplight. And the lovely sign atop The Drake that screamed Freedom!

She glanced at her watch. They’d put the boys in a taxi back to their dorm right after they left the restaurant. Since traffic was light, Russ might be back at his place already.

Tomorrow wouldn’t be quite so busy, thankfully. Hot dogs and burgers at 11:30, followed by a four-man golf scramble. And in the evening they’d have a light family dinner sponsored by the team. Then she’d say goodbye to her precious boy-child until his first trip home, which wouldn’t come until Thanksgiving. Her eyes blurred, and she blinked away the tears.

“—carriage ride, Maggie?” Spike was pointing to the horse-drawn carriage stopped at the corner they were about to cross.

She rewound his question in her head. He was asking if she wanted to go on a carriage ride. And, while the idea was appealing, she couldn’t bear to stay in Spike’s company any longer than she had to. “It sounds lovely,” she answered. “But I don’t think I’m up for it. Thanks, though.”

He shrugged.

The walk signal came on, and they stepped off the curb. She felt both men’s hands touch the small of her back at the same time. She also felt the simultaneous jerk when their fingers touched and their hands dropped back to their sides. She made it all the way across the street unassisted...and somehow managed to contain her laughter.

Considering how talkative he’d been all through dinner, Jeff had become uncharacteristically quiet as they neared the hotel, uttering only that one cut-down to Spike. Something was bothering him. Probably tomorrow’s goodbye, if she were guessing.

Spike was never at a loss for words, though. Her dad would describe him as the type whose “mouth runs like the clatter bone of a goose’s ass.” As soon as they entered the hotel lobby, he pointed to the lounge. “How about a drink?”

“Not for me,” she answered. “I left my phone in the car, so I’m going to go get it, then head for my room.”

Jeff’s head jerked toward her, and he gave her a hard look. “You can’t go to the garage at night by yourself. I’ll go with you.” He slapped Spike on the arm. “And then I’m going to hit the sack, too. Enjoy your Crown Royal, man. See you tomorrow.”

Alone with Jeff? Gah! She’d seen this coming and tried to avoid it all day. Sure as shootin’, he was going to ask her about her answer this morning. She’d seen the next question in his eyes all day and had been careful not to be alone with him. She needed to have her answer formulated.

He was going to ask why she waited years to date after their split. Not that it was any of his business. But this was Jeff—telling him that would only make him suspect the worst. Of course, the worst was the truth. But how could she admit she’d carried the torch for him far too long? That she’d made a fool of herself—so certain he’d come back and want to be a family again? Had worked long and hard to get over him, and yet she had only, during the past few years, finally felt free of him?

“You don’t have to go with me,” she said as they waited for the elevator.

“Yeah, I do.”

The doors opened and relief flooded her to see several people headed the same direction. But it ended quickly as the small crowd dispersed in different directions when they reached the garage level. Her large SUV wasn’t far from the door, so maybe, if she walked fast, she could keep a light chat going until—

“Mags, you ran from the car this morning because you knew what I wanted to ask you.” Jeff took her elbow and pulled back to slow her pace.

So much for light chatter.

“No use in dredging up the past, Jeff.” She hit the button on her key fob to unlock the car door.

“But I need to know. Did you not date for years because of me? Did I make you distrust men?”

He didn’t suspect...which, of course, could only mean he hadn’t gone through what she had.

That realization pinched her heart enough to leave a bruise.

She gave a thoughtful pause as she opened the door to retrieve her phone from the console. She slipped it into her purse and closed the door, then turned to meet his earnest gaze. “You didn’t make me distrust men,” she answered honestly. “I distrusted myself.”

A flicker of relief shot from his dark eyes, followed quickly by a shadow. She nodded toward the elevator and started moving in that direction. “I couldn’t risk failing again.” Keeping control of the conversation before he could ask any more questions seemed like her best option now. “Too much depended on my being successful. I had a child to take care of and a career to think about.” She stopped as the elevator door opened, relieved to find the car empty this time.

A short ride to the third floor, and this would be over.

They stepped in and Jeff punched the buttons as she continued. “I wasn’t sure I was capable of handling those things, so I couldn’t even think about throwing a relationship into the mix.” This wasn’t as difficult as she’d thought. Everything she was saying was the truth—she was simply leaving out a few details.

“And once I opened the salon, there was yet another thing demanding my time.” Her stomach gave a jolt as the elevator came to a stop on the third floor. Jeff stepped out with her, just as he’d done the previous afternoon, only this time he started walking with her to her door.

“Something you said last night at dinner kept me awake.” His voice was low as they made their way down the hallway. “And, coupled with what you said this morning, it’s bothered the hell out of me all day.”

“What did I say?” Her spine had pulled into a tight curve at the touch of his hand, pressed absently to the small of her back as they walked. When they reached her door, her shoulders were squared as she turned to face him.

“It was the part about admitting to yourself you’d made a huge mistake. Again.”

“O-kay...?”

His hands gripped his hips, and he shrugged. “You can’t think we were a mistake, Mags. If we were a mistake, that makes Russ a mistake.”

She leaned against the door, closing her eyes to the raw emotion in his. “You’re right. Zeke was a mistake, but referring to us that way was a poor choice of words.”

She heard the rustle of his movement and opened her eyes to find him pressing a forearm against the door frame, his eyes hooded with doubt.

“Russ is the best thing that ever came into my life.” His voice was heavy with emotion. “And I know it’s been difficult for you. But I want you to understand that it’s not been easy for me, either. Being so far away from him—not being able to see him every day—has been hard on me.”

The sincerity in his eyes pulled at her heartstrings. She reached up to touch his face in a motherly fashion, to console, the way she would with Russ when she saw that same expression on his face. But as soon as her palm connected with his cheek, the touch became something else entirely—something not at all motherly. It became a lover’s caress as his heat scorched her, sent tingles through her arm and into her chest...down into her belly and lower.

The look in his eyes changed in an instant.

He felt it, too.

Electricity charged the atmosphere around them, encapsulating them in its trembling heat. Her eyes held to his steely gaze like a magnet. He leaned in slightly, and she pressed her back against the door but found no escape. Her hand, still on his cheek, should be pushing him away. So why did it slide around to the back of his neck and pull him closer?

The world slowed as his mouth neared hers, and she licked her lips in anticipation. She closed her eyes at the last second, allowing this moment to take center stage in her mind as it had so often in her dreams. The tenderness of his lips, the familiar sweetness...the flutter in her stomach that all too soon would become an aching need.

She’d entered a danger zone and was much too old and wise now to ignore the signs.

Sliding her hand from the back of his neck to his chest, she didn’t push him away, but did apply enough pressure to let him know this needed to stop. In answer, he removed his mouth from hers slowly but didn’t straighten, staying close enough that his breath continued to feather across her lips, warming them with the caress.

“Russ was never a mistake,” she whispered. “But letting this go any further would be.”

She felt the burst of air from his disgruntled sigh, but he stepped back, buckling his chin and giving her a nod.

“Good night, Mags.” He touched her cheek with the back of his finger.

“Night.”

She made short work of getting into her room, barely making it to the bed before her knees buckled under the weight of the moment.